Titanic Guardian
by Thestrality
Summary: After the Hero of Olympus wishes all innocent titans free, a powerful minor titan named Perseus is released from Tartarus only to become the Guardian of the Hunt. If you have a problem with slow updates, this story is not for you. I have not abandoned nor forgotten about this, but my writing schedule is screwed up. I write in large bursts when I feel spurts of inspiration.


"A great hero must be rewarded," Poseidon said. "Is there anyone here who would deny that my son is deserving?"

The gods never agreed on anything, and many of them still didn't like him, but not a single one protested.

"The Council agrees," Zeus said. "Timothy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods."

The demigod son of Poseidon and Champion of Olympus hesitated. "Any gift?"

Zeus nodded grimly. "I know what you will ask. The greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift upon a mortal hero in many centuries, but, Timothy Jackson - if you wish it you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all time."

"Um . . . a god?"

Zeus rolled his eyes. "A dimwitted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire Council, I can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever."

"Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea."

"I approve as well," Athena said, though she was looking at Annabeth.

The half-blood glanced back. Annabeth was trying not to meet his eyes. Her face was pale. The hero flashed back to two years ago, when he'd thought she was going to take the pledge to Artemis and become a Hunter. He'd been on the edge of a panic attack, thinking that he'd lose her. Now, she looked pretty much the same way.

He thought about the Three Fates, and the way he'd seen his life flash by. He could avoid all that. No aging, no death, no body in the grave. A teenager forever, in top condition, powerful, and immortal, serving his father. He could have power and eternal life.

He glanced back at his friend, the daughter of Wisdom, before turning to Zeus with a grim determination.

"No."

The council was quiet, and from the hearth the warm goddess watched in admiration and fascination as the hero turned down eternally better life and power for the sake of his friends. Hestia had gotten used to the isolation. Her family around her constantly argued about irrelevant and often simply stupid things while she observed them — unnoticed — with understanding. She had given up her place on the council years ago for the lazy Wine God for the mere reason of peace and hope. She was tired of the arguing and it was difficult to maintain order about her family when she was part of it. From the outside in, tending her hearth in the middle of the room she was able to understand every aspect.

She admired the boy. Just as she had sacrificed her position for order, he had sacrificed his chance at immortality for his friends. She often went unnoticed by her family, but in times of strife she was the oldest Olympian. She was the eldest offspring of Kronos and Rhea. Despite her harmless exterior, she was capable of dangerous things.

And dangerous things she did, interrupting the outburst of Olympian rated arguments with a thirty foot tall plume of sheer white-hot heat that erupted from the fire pit.

Silence encased the throne room once again, only the sizzle and crackle of the flames to be heard.

"Many of you may not know it," The goddess said, standing up. "But feelings exist in this world. There is more to life than power and length. The boy wishes to honor his deceased friends, and not to leave his alive ones. Nothing more. He means no disrespect to us or immortality in general."

If anyone else had said such a thing, there'd be chaos. If she was still in the council, there'd be chaos. But because of her eight year-old, usually peaceful self, speaking such bold things from her four foot form in the middle of the room (In comparison to fifteen foot gods all around her), no one objected.

Tim was grateful to his aunt, and he showed such appreciation by a smile and short nod. Hestia smiled back before sitting down indian style and resuming the tendance of her hearth.

"Er, alright," The thunder god began, still surprised at his older sister's rare display of boldness. "Is there any other desire you may wish?"

"Actually, yes." Began Timmy, thinking of the neglect of all the minor gods. Why Pan faded, why the whole war happened, and most importantly - Luke's last wish. "I want all minor gods to be recognized."

Athena was taken aback. She expected him to accept immortality with glee, in effect separating himself from her favorite daughter which is what she wanted. But when he had turned that down, she expected him to wish for eternal riches or more power. But Athena understood his wish, and though it was hard to admit, she agreed completely. Maybe he did deserve her daughter, after all.

And that was why when the rest of the gods looked confused, Athena piped up. "Father, what he means is that we must start treating the minor gods better."

Before she could continue, the sea spawn did so for her.

"Yes, my friend Luke's last wish was to get recognition for them. The wilderness god Pan faded because he lacked any recognition. Even the war ignited because the minor gods were angry of your unfair treatment. Dozens of demigods are left unclaimed in the Hermes cabin, not knowing who their parents are. Some even do, but there are no minor god cabins."

Instead of throwing a fit and threatening to kill him for his disrespect, Zeus leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin.

"Hmm, I like you, son of Poseidon." Surprising everyone with the last statement, he continued. "So be it. May the minor gods be recognized by us and all of Olympus. I assume no one shall disagree?"

Not one council member spoke up, whether it was due to shock of Hestia's outburst, the surprise of Zeus' claim, or simply because they all agreed.

Despite their possible reasonings, the vote was 12-0 and his wish was now law.

"But I have one more wish, if that's okay." No one objected.

"Go on." Came the simple but efficient reply of the King.

"I want all titans that were either neutral or fought on your side, this war and the first, released." He wished, thinking of Calypso and her eternal emotional torment and isolation. How many other titans were stuck in similar situations?

"I see you're reasoning, demigod." Zeus determined. "But I'm not sure if I'll be able to grant your wish. I will try, however."

The council awarded a few more before all of the mortals filed out of the room and only the Olympians were left.

"Father," The wisdom goddess began. "I may have a solution. The neutral titans of both the wars shall be released with duties or monitors and the titans who have fought on our side shall be completely free."

That seemed to satisfy Zeus, his only regards to the situation were how he was going to sort everything out.

One by one, the titans were released. Each held a trial on Olympus determining their trust and their duty/monitoring.

Until a single, last, almost forgotten titan stood in the throne room before all twelve Olympian Gods.

"Perseus, son of Perses and Styx." Zeus deemed. "Titan of Storms, Gravity, Courage, and Pain. Correct?"

"Yes, Lord Zeus." His eighteen year-old form spoke respectfully.

"What sides did you fight on in the wars, Perseus?"

"I was neutral in both wars, sir."

"Ah. . ." Zeus thought, sensing the truth in his words. In reality, because of his position as King, he already knew most basic things about him. The trial was held to determine his truth, position, state, duty, and so that all of the gods had an input together.

The lord knew, from his peaceful but fierce stance and the serious gleam in his eyes ,that he wished nothing but freedom and peace, but would still fight Olympus without hesitation if need be. Something Zeus admired about him. Maybe, in the future, he would give him a position in the council. But that was highly unlikely and if so, it'd be millennia ahead.

What duties would he assign the titan? The King would hate to waste his strength and talent by making him a cleaner of Olympus, or tender of Athena's library like he did some. He could possibly make him a Guardian of Camp, but that would be taking away from his own son's punishment and really stretching the Ancient Laws.

He glanced over at Artemis, and the huntress reluctantly nodded knowing what he was asking. Zeus had talked with her some weeks ago about assigning his son Heracles, as a defender of her camp. Artemis had objected with heat, but they both knew from the rapidly growing population of monsters and her hunt's slowly descending number that they needed extra help. If she didn't want Heracles, then she could have Perseus. Zeus would personally rather his son but he knew that his son didn't need a punishment and this titan did.

"Perseus, son of Perses and Styx, titan of Storms, Gravity, Courage, and Pain, I hereby deem you the guardian of Artemis and her huntresses for eternity or until I see fit."

* * *

Perseus was happy. He was finally free from Tartarus. Through the fog of relief, the darkness that was Tartarus still haunted him. In his mind, he heard his father screaming for revenge. Screaming to him to blast every corner of Olympus to bits for the things that the Olympians had done to him. Destroy the Olympians who were always playing the heroes, always trying to banish the "evil." Perseus also heard many members of his family shrieking at him, yelling that this was his chance to strike.

But Perseus also knew that this was his chance for redemption.

What scared the titan was not the voices themselves, but the fact that he was pretty sure his own mind was creating the voices of his family and that he was half-agreeing with what the voices said. He was torn apart between blasting the King right then and there, and bowing at his feet.

Such a man had thrown almost all his family in the depths of Tartarus to suffer.

Perseus was now alone in this harsh world, but he dearly wished that he wasn't. When he left the throne room, he didn't exit as a titan, but as a ten year old boy walking hand in hand with his mother.

In his mind, various plans were sprouting like mushrooms after a shower of rain. He thought of conjuring a rope and pulling his family out, of forcing Hermes to magically flash them to himself, and even of asking Hecate, his half sister, to turn him into a sort of spider monkey so he could crawl down the pit's walls and drag his family out. Nevermind how much labor it would take or how impossible each of those ideas seemed. He wanted his family.

But those thoughts were forged in the most desperate corners of his mind, and consciously he knew they would never work.

Still, the parts of him wished. He vaguely wondered if they would ever stop wishing.

As he thought to himself and walked through the cold night of Olympus, he shivered. He ached for warmth and shelter, things he had only dreamed of for the longest time.

Coincidentally, just then he heard light, graceful footseps behind him.

"Need a place to stay?" A beautiful — maybe too beautiful — dove-like, silky voice called innocently from behind him.

He froze and turned around, only to see Aphrodite smiling warmly.

"Sure," He effortlessly slid into an easy smirk, a part of his brain knowing that she was only trying to seduce him and wasn't this sweet. But shamefully, he was cold. He wanted a place to stay, and scarily, he didn't mind her attempts.

With that, he followed Aphrodite's swan like form into her palace where he slept for the night.

* * *

Perseus woke up to warm rays of Apollo falling over his eyes and a beautiful Goddess of Love beside him. Life was great, he thought.

Perseus got out of bed abruptly, throwing the covers off and swinging his legs aside. Of course, much to the dismay of Love.

"Thanks," He growled, already suffering the torture of his own mind. He walked over to the shelf where Aphrodite had placed a jacket for him the night before.

"You're going already?" Aphrodite said in an innocent tone. The act was really starting to irritate Perseus.

"I need weapons," was the gruff reply. "I need to start training."

"I can do something for you by asking my husband to make some," She started, getting up from the bed and pressing her body against his. "But only if you do something for me."

Perseus gently pushed her away, knowing by "ask her husband" she meant "bribe my husband with sex to get in your favor." A part of him wanted nothing more than to pin the goddess down and to take her then and there. But a bigger part of him knew he was above that, above succumbing to the sluttish goddess's seduction a second time.

He had given in at first for the sole reason of warmth and shelter. The warmth of another body had been nice after so many years of isolation in Tartarus. He missed it, and shamefully he missed sex.

He had allowed himself to the goddess once and certainly wasn't giving in again.

So, he slipped on his jacket, ignoring Aphrodite's protests, before starting the trek of the many hallways and mazes of the many stairs to finally find the exit, walking out of her palace in search of arms.

* * *

The first thing he thought of when he thought of the word 'weapon,' was Ares. So naturally, he went there.

As he approached the building that had to be the War God's, his mind had already started battling itself again on whether to build an army and destroy Olympus, resume his duties peacefully, or try to get his family out with childish plans that would only work in his dreams.

Ignoring the war of his mind, he took note of the building. It was a blood red palace with hogs and various weapons from various eras scattered all over it. Happenings from wars were plastered across the walls, told in pictures. Both modern and and ancient. It was actually quite amazing.

He grimly thought of all the amazing things he had missed from his time in Tartarus.

Then, he shook himself from those thoughts. That seemed to be all he was thinking. Tartarus. Tartarus. _Tartarus._ That was no longer his home or imprisonment, he needed to get the simple word out of his head. A simple, powerful, fear striking, saddening word.

The titan knocked on the door and waited. Not too long afterwards, a buff, shirtless figure opened the door. He didn't look too happy.

"You slept with my girlfriend," He claimed stoically.

"Yes." The titan answered. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't going to mention that Aphrodite really wasn't his girlfriend, because she was Hephaestus' wife. In truth, it had been millennia the last time he had stepped foot in the world above and didn't know any of the Olympian drama. But, he wasn't going to remind the God of War, that. He wasn't going to make any excuses.

"Whatever." Ares said, before abruptly shutting the door.

Perseus stuck his foot in it. "Wait! I need your help."

"What?" He was really making the titan feel bad. He wasn't angry, or blood-thirsty like usual. He was gloomy and serious. In contrast to his usual sharp, jerky motions, his current ones were weak and fluent.

"I need weapons." He said. "I don't have any. They were all destroyed when I was cast in Tartarus."

A sword and shield appeared in his hands, along with a belt of a dozen throwing knives strapped to his waist. It surprised him.

"Thanks," He was about to apologize again when Ares cut him off.

"They're mortal weapons. They're temporary."

"I see," The titan acknowledged and before he could say more Ares shut the door.

_Shut_ the door, he didn't slam it.

Perseus vaguely wondered if Ares really loved the goddess. But if he did, wouldn't he be mad? Realization suddenly overcame the Storm Titan. No, Ares had actually liked her a lot. Then, when Aphrodite had took him in last night, it had made him realize how devious and uncaring his "girlfriend" actually was. That she didn't care for him, she was just using him for that heartbreaking, pain-causing 's' word.

What now? he thought.

He supposed that he could practice with what he had, and then ask Zeus or Hephaestus for real weapons.

Then, a thought struck him. He would still have his symbols of power, correct?

He tried summoning them, only for a broken shield and spear to appear on the ground beside him.

The shield was quite small, pitch-black, and very starry. Millions of bright dots of different sizes slowly drifted across the surface. It was gift from his stepmother, Asteria, a long time ago.

The spear was also black, except the handle was bound in a rich, leather grip. There was a single stripe of silver before the end.

However, they were both cracked and magically heavily damaged. Power no longer radiated from the objects like he remembered. They were just pieces of scrap metal.

The two were indestructible, like most godly weapons. So the only way to damage them was by magic. And even then, a better word was disable.

Frustratingly, he snapped his fingers and the pieces of scrap metal dissipated with a pop. He wanted to ask the Forge God to repair them, but he wasn't able to with the guilt of sleeping with his wife only the night before. Aphrodite's words echoed in his mind.

_"I can do something for you by asking my husband to make some,"_ She had told him. _"But only if you do something for me."_

In that single moment, he hated the goddess. He hated how frustrating and complicated things had to be. This was only his second day as a free man. Was this how life was?

He angrily clenched his fists before _storming_ into the arena and began tearing automatons up.

The minor Titan of Storms slashed one's head off violently. By now, his fragile mortal weapons were badly damaged. They were dented and even bent. But he kept going.

A crowd had slowly made its way in to the stands. Numerous nymphs, gods, and goddesses watched in excitement and even amazement. They were mesmerized by the titan's speed, strength, and grace as he slashed through the never ending onslaught of metal like a hurricane.

Eventually, Zeus and the Olympians flashed into the room sensing the commotion and power surge.

They were ready, in full armor with their symbols of power in their hands. But the sight they saw certainly wasn't what they had expected.

Perseus had noticed he had attracted a crowd, but he ignored them and kept going. He had long since gotten rid of his foolish anger and now he was truly only training.

Zeus was impressed. The Olympians watched with interest at his skillful display of training. Their interest had not descended, and they watched him until the end, when he had destroyed all of the robotic fighters. Noticing Zeus, the titan stood up straight and addressed him. In truth, he did have some respect for the thunder god. He also had no wish to be thrown in Tartarus again.

"Perseus," Zeus said seriously.

For a moment, the titan was scared that Zeus was going to claim he was too powerful and cast him in Tartarus.

The serious, stern look on the King's face spread into a warm, humorous look of pride with his next sentence, "We need to get stronger automatons!"

Perseus smiled, he was really starting to like Zeus.

"I have a request, My Lord." The titan started, summoning his pieces of scrap metal. "My weapons of power, well.. I need them repaired or I need new ones."

"Of course," Zeus told him. "I expect you to be well armed and powerful to rightfully defend my daughter."

Zeus motioned for him to hand them over and Perseus did so.

"Hm, I'll see what I can do. I'll get back to you by tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, my lord." Perseus stated, before flashing out — a sensation he had almost forgotten — and leaving all of the wide-eyed gods and goddesses to deal with the pile of hundreds of destroyed automatons.

* * *

Perseus was amazed, as he stared at all of the mortal vehicles zooming below from a rooftop. People walked around in odd clothes, carrying small paper and pieces of metal that he had learned could be exchanged for ANYTHING.

He was so entranced by the show the mortals put on, he almost didn't notice a feminine, winged figure behind him.

"Nike," He spoke, dozens of emotions swirling in his heart as well as the single word that escaped his lips. He didn't know which emotion was prominent, there were so many.

"Perseus," She smiled, glad to see her little brother again. But her eyes held untold feelings and anyone could tell she was experiencing a more diverse variety of emotions than he was.

Perseus loved his sister. But she was always on the best side of the family. She was always the perfect one. She always won; she never lost. She was always right; she was never wrong. He often got jealous of her. She had the luck of being a goddess, while he was stuck with being a titan and being cast in tartarus for it. If she was older and she was still a goddess, then why was he a titan? Life was unfair.

But those jealous, depressing thoughts soon dissipated, and he engulfed the Goddess of Victory in a hug.

"I've missed you so much," She said, a lone tear leaking further down her cheek with every syllable. "I'm sorry, little brother."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He barely got out before his throat had fully restricted with intense, resurfaced emotion.

"I've m-missed y-y-you so much... I can't believe they threw you in Tartarus!" Tears were now freely leaking from her eyes.

"I know," He tried to be soothing. But in truth, he was struggling not to let tears escape from his eyes himself. "It's okay. It's over now."

She smiled, all the memories they had shared flowing back to her. He hadn't changed.

They were silent, just embracing each other like the long lost siblings they were. Neither wanted to let go, but Perseus pulled away.

"The mortals are amazing," He told her. "So many things have changed.."

Nike smiled.

"Yes, they have. Technology has progressed and current times are much different from Ancient Greece."

Perseus almost wanted to laugh. Ancient Greece? No, regular Greece. This was just futuristic America.

"Would you like to have dinner?" She asked. "I'll show you to my favorite mortal restaurant.."

"That'd be great," Perseus smiled, glad to be back in the land of the living and with his sister.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, he belongs to Annabeth Chase, recently Artemis.**

**Yaaaaaaay. I'm going to say the general overused, "Please read and review."**

**Please read and review. Though, by now, you've obviously already read it.**

**So. Please review.**

**Much thanks to ****trollalalala. Check his/her profile out.**


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